


The luxury of time (or the actual shortage of it)

by icylook



Series: Vergil Surana [3]
Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age: Origins
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-19
Updated: 2019-08-19
Packaged: 2020-09-07 13:02:40
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 865
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20309950
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/icylook/pseuds/icylook
Summary: Vergil establishes some rules, after coming to the decision on learning how to fight, with Zevran as a teacher.





	The luxury of time (or the actual shortage of it)

**Author's Note:**

> One of the earliest tumblr drabbles posted on Vergil's blog (icy-warden on tumblr) with minor edits. 
> 
> Timeline: Sometime during Blight, after Zevran's recruited.

_"You can’t be serious!"_

Alistair’s shout carried through the camp. 

"Alistair. The _purpose_ of us talking alone was to keep this conversation _private_. Lower your tone." 

"But you want to let an assassin, who’s with us for few weeks-"

"More than a month-"

"_-let _him be near you with daggers in _close proximity!"_

"That’s how fighting lessons go, yes, usually there’s some physical contact involved."

Alistair bristled. "And what if he’ll just finish his job and kill you? We can’t _trust him!"_

Vergil just looked at his fellow Warden. "I need to learn how to fight and defend myself without relying _only_ on magic."

"I can teach you!"

"No, you can’t."

"Why?"

"Because you’re a sword and shield fighter? It’s years of practice to come to decent level and you know it, Alistair. I need to learn something closer to my actual style, smaller, and _do it fast_. And Zevran, you can come out and talk with us, if you wish. Otherwise, I believe _it is _a private conversation."

The shadows of nearby trees seemed to move and a figure emerged. Zevran stepped closer to the light of few wisps, which Vergil summoned.

"I think I won’t know, how do you do that little trick of yours?" 

Vergil smiled thinly. "No, you won’t."

"See, he’s spying on us even now!" Alistair cried in justified outrage.

"I can assure you all this _“spying”_ was for myself only."

"You tried to kill us!"

"Still so touchy about that. Will I ever be forgiven?" Zevran asked in mock pretense.

Alistair growled. "Listen, you-"

_"That’s enough." _Vergil’s voice cut through. He didn’t have to shout to get their attention. "That is not for _the debate._ Zevran agreed to teach me and I was merely informing you about this, not asking for your _permission_. And _you,"_ He turned to Zevran. "don’t provoke him with unecessary sarcasm." 

Zevran blinked then grinned. "As you wish, my Warden."

After Alistair left them alone, stomping angrily and murmuring under his breath, Zevran turned to Vergil. "Your friend is very protective of you." He hummed and stepped closer to the mage. "What_ if _his fears were justified and our teaching lessons were only a rise to get closer to you, _luring you in-"_ He talked with words soft and charming, eyes never leaving Vergil’s face. "And then, when _no one is looking_, I get my chance to hurt you for _good?"_

Vergil stood perfectly still when Zevran stopped just a feet before him. "Wouldn’t you waste your chance for a surprise attack telling me all this?"

Zevran shrugged. "Maybe I want to gain your trust by being forward with my _“inevitable betrayal” _plans."

"Then I’d believe you’re really stupid. You wouldn’t be leaving the camp alive."

"Oh, your companions would definitely try to avenge their leader, I have no doubt. But, would you be quick enough to cast a spell, when the poisoned blade is already so close?" He murmured, eyes flickering to Warden’s lips for a moment. All this situation, the dangerous mood got him a little warmer all over. Vergil didn’t look even a bit shaken, though. He seemed to actually reveal in it.

"Tell me, _Zevran_," the mage spoke quietly, "Have you ever felt, like your blood is _on fire?"_

Suddenly, Zevran felt warm, _unnaturaly_ warm. It was spreading and he felt his heart beating rapidly. It hurt a little and shortened his breath. Vergil smirked seeing his surprised expression.

"I’d appreciate if you give up on idle scenarios like that one. I believe we’re both intelligent people and I’d be _severely disappointed,_ if I will have to actually _boil your blood." _The last words were whispered harshly. The warmness in Zevran’s body, steadily rising to the moment of being uncomfortable, suddenly left him, and he started trembling involuntarily. He slumped forward and Vergil’s hands were the only thing steadying him at the moment.

"You wonder how I did that?" Vergil murmured straight to Zevran’s ear, his breath so cool. "You should be more careful with healing wounds."

Then, the mage stepped back, his hands still on Zevran’s shoulders. His grin sharp, not reaching the coldness of his gaze. "Now, we’re behind schedule. I’ll leave you to rest for a while and _please_, find me, when you’re ready to begin our lessons."

While saying that, Vergil briefly helped him sit down, gave him his water flask and then left. 

Zevran sat still slightly trembling, his thoughts racing. At least his breath became more regular and the speed of his heart on the more normal, if only a bit faster, beating. The Warden just gave him a glimpse of how unpredictable a mage can become in close quarters.

He felt a sliver of fear for a moment, but… wasn’t it also _exciting?_

In the end, he fancied power and beauty, and to have it combined in one person was _thrilling._ He just had to make sure to stay on Warden’s good side and secure safer position. Powerful ally is always in price.

Oh, and he’d better make sure to make their fighting lessons interesting. Plus, a some innocent revenge for earlier display? He grinned to himself. 

It’d be _fun_, he’ll _make it fun._


End file.
